Every Breath You Take
by Cement Girl
Summary: Dr. McDreamy was dead, but Dr. Shepherd was stood there, under that makeshift arch, and staring at our Mer in the way he always does, in the way nobody else does.


**A/N:**I've been one of those annoying authors who spends their writing time working on other projects - one's that aren't her chaptered fic - but I wanted to write something a little more reflective than usual. As much as I enjoy writing my AU, I find myself wanting to venture into Shonda's U.

Here's a (very overdone) scenario: an insight into MerDer's wedding day.

**Disclaimer:** Own? I just... _don't._

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_'I believe this is heaven,  
to no-one else but me.'  
Elsewhere - Bethany Joy Galeotti_

Meredith wouldn't get up. She wasn't freaking out like she normally does, she just wanted to sleep. I guess that's understandable, though. She'd only got six hours sleep after a 24 hour shift the night before her wedding day. But at the time Izzie and I didn't really care. Cristina wasn't there yet (she blamed traffic, I blamed bad memories) and so it was Izzie's job to get Meredith ready and my job to do whatever Izzie told me to.

Once she'd stopped moaning abuse at us and we'd managed to haul her out of bed Izzie had practically thrown her into the shower and was scurrying around the house muttering about how she'd lost the 'something blue'. I couldn't see why she was bothering. I never expected Meredith to wear the blue garter; Meredith conforming to tradition wasn't something we'd anticipated to happen any time soon.

I'd just made my way up the stairs with Meredith's coffee and some cold pizza (some things never change) when Izzie launched herself into the bedroom (disaster zone) once more, various bits of material and expensive jewellery dangling from her neck and arms. She'd asked Mer seemingly endless questions about colours and practicalities and 'will this go with the dress?' I'd stood close by, baffled by the logistics of wedding day fashion. Meredith turned down all the jewellery, she said she'd already got a couple of things, and graciously accepted the coffee and pizza with a breathy 'thankyou George'. After all this time, I still found my palms getting sweaty when she said my name. It was pathetic really, seeing as I _really_ wasn't in love with her anymore. I don't think I ever really was.

Izzie was still quizzing Mer in a babbling frenzy, but I guessed Meredith wasn't really paying much attention as she moved at a sluggish rate, crouching down to slide out the dress (not yet out of its box) from under her bed. Removing the tissue paper and unwrapping the dress from its confines, she'd dragged it across her bedroom floor and shut the door in Izzie's face, re-entering the bathroom and dropping the towel that had been holding up her hair behind her.

She'd taken all of two minutes getting the dress on, and, still moving lethargically, spent under five minutes on her make-up, using only a little more than usual. The dress was incredibly understated but she still looked beautiful. She always did, I say that as a friend. She gestured for Izzie to come do her hair. Izzie hung her head: Mer had made it perfectly clear these past few weeks she desired a simple style. Nothing too 'weddingy', whatever that was supposed to mean. Izzie reluctantly avoided all sparkles and shimmers, and settled on leaving most of Mer's hair hanging down around her face as usual, curling only a few pieces of hair and pinning them round the back. Meredith slipped on her shoes and was done, she muttered something about 'not needing to get up this early in the first place,' Izzie had looked briefly indignant, but I guess she'd decided then was not the time to get pissed off.

The rev of a motorcycle could be heard from outside. Cristina had arrived.

In the end I'd just returned to my own room and donned my suit. Adjusting my tie a few times I shrugged to the mirror, nobody would be looking at me anyway. I slipped downstairs and switched on the TV, vaguely picking up the thuds and laughter resounding from Meredith's room as Cristina and Izzie spent a while longer getting ready than Meredith had.

Meredith eventually joined me on the couch, smiling at me; relieved. She'd ran to the kitchen a couple times to fetch more cold pizza and coffee but all in all we sat there, watching some crappy romcom for about an hour, not talking. It was a comfortable silence. I'd decided then I would miss it. When she wasn't being all 'dark and twisty' Meredith had a sort of calming presence. I wasn't sure if I was the only one who felt it.

When we arrived at his land it was already dusk. It looked nice, the sun setting over that view of Seattle Meredith had described to me countless times. He and Dr. Sloan (I still find it uncomfortable to use their first names, even now) were in his trailer. Addison was there too. Meredith didn't seem to mind, she was at peace with that part of her past.

When the ceremony began, and Meredith linked her arm through mine, and Izzie and Cristina followed us down the aisle, I felt an invisible weight lift off my shoulders. I guess Mer would've liked to have had a father who cared enough to be there, and give her away, but I _was_ there for her, and it really was as if I was finally giving her away. We all were. Dr. McDreamy was dead, but Dr. Shepherd was stood there, under that makeshift arch, and staring at our Mer in the way he always does, in the way nobody else does. In that moment I _finally_ trusted him with her. He wouldn't break her again. I think Meredith realised it too - she was free of those chains, of us, holding her back from her less-than fairytale ending.

The vows were nice too. They weren't overly dramatic, neither told the 'epic love story' that was their lives, it was just a simple 'I love you, I love you too, let's get out of here and have hot sex.' Well, not quite, but if anybody had seen the looks in their eyes they'd know as well as I do that's all they really wanted right then. It should have been a really disturbing thought, but everybody knew that was just what those two _did_.

The kiss was short, sweet. Izzie and I shared a knowing glance: if that kiss had lasted any longer they wouldn't have been able to stop, then it _would_ have been disturbing.

At one point, when they'd walked down the aisle once more, to get some alone time before the after party (to be held, also, on his land), I saw him glancing over at his ex-wife. He looked distant, no doubt recalling his first wedding. I tried to imagine what it would've been like, probably all traditional vows and huge poofy white dresses and crowds of people and veils and speeches. Quite a contrast to his second.

There were hardly any people there. Just the obvious, his mom and sisters, and Lexie (Meredith was, surprisingly, the one who invited her). Bailey wasn't there, nor the chief, I guess that would've been weird, him being there. He never took it personally, I don't think he really wanted to go anyway.

The after party consisted of Joe's catering and Izzie's speech, nothing more. There was no dancing. It was short, no more than a couple of hours, full of small talk and sips of wine. Meredith drank nothing, I don't think she felt the need.

I saw at one point a fond exchange between Meredith and Cristina, they were hugging. Meredith smiled into her friend's shoulder and she caught my eyes, she grinned even wider. She'd made it, she was there.

She hadn't spoken much the whole day, but she was happy, we could all see it. There was no apprehension anymore, she was done. They both were.

At around midnight, when it was just them and us (Izzie, Cristina, Alex, Me), she slipped her hand into his and nodded to each of us in turn, before they turned and walked towards the trailer to fetch suitcases and probably make out.

They spent around half an hour in there. I saw them clamber out (he was carrying her, her legs were wound around his waist her head rested on his shoulder, she looked asleep) and quietly slip into his car, and into the night.

I can't remember exactly where they went, I think it was Greece or something. They were gone a week, Meredith told me it was great, but none of us think they ever made it out the hotel room.

I had a conversation with Dr. Shepherd once, in an on call room after a particularly long surgery I'd assisted him in. He'd thanked me, for looking after her. I'd thanked him, for loving her. He'd smiled, slight regret crossing his features as he recounted the past. He knew he'd broken her once. I knew he'd fixed her again. We'd talked for a while, mostly about her. It wasn't as awkward as I thought it would've been. The strange encounter was interrupted when Lexie came in and collapsed on the bottom bunk, where I was, crushing me and resting her head on my chest, exhausted. The last thing I remember him saying to me, though, was how difficult it was to get her out of bed in the mornings.

I guess I kind of miss that about her.


End file.
